He'd said... what had he said? He'd been looking at the grass, and a thought had occurred to him, and he'd said Good -

"Oh, bugger," he says, puzzlement giving way to a look of mild annoyance.


(Short pause, Crowley's forehead furrowed in concentration. It's been a year. Not a year since he's spoken English - though it's that, too - but a year since Crowley has had language centres at all.)


"Melqosh," he tries.